


Pasta

by 13th_Fleet



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/F, Food, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 18:30:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18744685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13th_Fleet/pseuds/13th_Fleet
Summary: An omake for Now You Feel Like Number None.





	Pasta

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CodexOmicron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CodexOmicron/gifts).



> This takes place a good bit later in the story than what has been posted here so far, so there are some elements in this that are minor spoilers to Omicron's main work.

For the moment, you were content. You were sitting across from Esmeralda at her apartment in the Living World with a table bearing a meal between you two. The nature of Hueco Mundo meant that schedules tended not to line up with worlds that had actual day-night cycles, so although for you this meal was lunch, for Esmeralda it was actually a late dinner. Regardless of what meal it was though, what really mattered was whether it was good, not that you planned on saying anything if it wasn't.

Esmeralda had offered to make extra when you had dropped by just before she began preparing her supper, and you had acquiesced. A guest should accept food when offered, after all. What she had made was rather intriguing. Living among the living had given your friend access to a wider variety of food than one could generally find in Las Noches, let alone the rest of Hueco Mundo. The dish she had made, for instance, was actually something hailing from halfway around the world despite some similarities to the local styles of cuisine that mirrored the fare the Shimigami had brought with them when they took over.

Esmeralda had called it Spaghetti with Meatballs, and a portion of it was sitting in front of you. It smelled -and that was something that was taking some getting used to- utterly delicious, so you took a bite as Esmeralda watched.

"So," Esmeralda began, a touch apprehensively. "How is it?"

For your part, you were staring ahead wide eyed as you processed the sensations coming from your mouth. You looked down at your plate for a moment before practically shoveling it into your mouth, manners be damned.

You were over halfway through the dish before you glanced up at Esmeralda, who was wearing a large grin hidden behind a hand. You flush, feeling sheepish. Everything has tasted more intense since you'd broken your mask further, and this would've been quite appetizing even before that.

She simply shook her head as she picked up her fork. "I'm glad you like it."

With commendable restraint, you continue eating at a much more sedate pace, face still red.

 

* * *

 

The two of you continued your meal in companionable silence for several minutes before Esmeralda suddenly shouts and lunges across the table and grabs your plate away from you.

"Nemo, what the hell?"

You stare at her shocked. Is something wrong?

A part of you notes that that didn't sound like Esmeralda.

"Nemo!"

In fact, said part of you notes, it sounded awfully like...

You open your eyes, groggily.

You are laying in bed.

Cirucci is leaning over you, her face furious.

You notice that a large portion of her hair is shorter then you remember it.

It occurs to you that it was a bit strange that the Spaghetti had been purple.

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by Tricia's omake (which hasn't been posted here as of this being posted). Moths eat hair.


End file.
